EMPTINESS

Here in this empty darkness I do grope,

For it doth seem to lack inspired hope.

The trail has narrowed that I can’t see at all

Its precipitous edge from which I seem to fall.

All things must end and thoughts do fade away,

But loss of rhyme to the poet brings dismay.

Thus I sit and muse here in this emptiness,

For here there are no words I can address.

Too much of what I am perhaps is lost,

In those verses written at great personal cost,

Draining all the realities from my day,

That I deceive myself with what I say.

None really care you know what I do write,

And now I face the lack of will to fight.

2

That which has left me is not here retained,

Tis emptiness from giving that has gained

One cannot give what he might wish to keep,

Nor wade the shallows that are now too deep.

Brave souls we are when we can stand and fight,

But youth knows nothing of its future plight,

Age decreases most of what we share,

And lessens thoughts of politics and care,

To leave one stumbling as changes take effect,

That long ago one would in fact reject.

Why would some lad consumed in youthful fire,

Make haste to read the transcripts of his sire?

Who writes of things he does not understand,

Until it's to late to strengthen his young hand.

© 1/3/2004 Colin F Jones